Everything Changes: That First Hydref
by sidlerocks
Summary: For lack of a a better description, Post-Countryside and beyond. Or post-Cyberwoman maybe. Janto. Spoilers from the beginning through TTKS and including Fragments. Rating for description of crime scenes and language. "Hydref" is the Welsh name for autumn.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

21 November 2006

Torchwood Headquarters

Cardiff, Wales

Captain Jack Harkness sat in his private bunker in the Hub, watching the youngest member of his team fitfully sleeping. What a day! A reminder that the greatest evil in the universe lives in the souls of psychopaths: alien interference or influence not required.

Jack still wasn't convinced Owen, _that's __**Doctor**__ Owen Harper, thank you very much_, had been right in his decree supporting Ianto's insistence that the Welshman didn't need to be hospitalized. After all, he'd been beaten nearly to death; kicked, and punched and hit with a baseball bat, tortured and terrified by maniacal cannibals for an endlessly long night. But the doctor had argued that the Hub had better imaging capabilities than and equal laboratory facilities to Cardiff A&E, that the injuries he anticipated finding—concussion, deep muscle contusions and fractured ribs—required only rest and supportive care, and that if he found anything unexpected, they would transfer Ianto immediately.

Owen's imaging and blood work had supported his presumptive diagnoses, and Ianto was continuing to adamantly refuse to go to the hospital, so Jack had reluctantly gone along with the plan of having Ianto convalesce in the Hub. Despite appearing all right at the scene, fellow team member Toshiko Sato, on the other hand, had gone to the hospital at Owen's insistence—the risk of sequelae and even delayed death from near-strangulation very real, and enough to require monitoring overnight.

They'd dropped former constable Gwen Cooper, newest member of the team, off with Tosh—thanks to Owen's handiwork, she didn't need to have her shotgun wound treated, but she was going to stay with her colleague for awhile--and Jack had sent Owen home as soon as the doctor'd taped Ianto's ribs and given him a sedative.

"I can stay with him, Jack," the medic had insisted. But Jack had demurred, and sent him on his way. And now he sat and studied the sleeping Welshman.

Two months ago, he would have said he knew Ianto Jones well. Two weeks ago, he would have said he didn't know him at all. After last night he realized he just didn't know which of what he knew was true and what wasn't, but that he desperately _WANTED_ to know the answers.

He'd once too have said that he and Ianto were friends, and maybe more. He'd been attracted to the other man from the moment they'd met four months earlier, and he'd confirmed that the appeal was mutual when he'd ended up first on top of and then underneath Ianto in the midst of trying to capture a pterodactyl.

He hadn't pushed it. Their flirting had been gentle and mutual, but hadn't gone further than innuendo. They met just two weeks after the Battle of Canary Wharf. Jack had been at the site immediately following the massacre. His second-in-command, Suzie Costello, and Owen had returned from the massive job of surveying the inconceivable wreckage to recover any alien hardware lying around, digging through the incredible detritus, only two days before. Ianto had been there during the attack. Everyone's emotions were raw and jagged. And Jack had sensed too that Ianto was struggling with the dawning realization that he was strongly attracted to another man.

It had, of course, never occurred to Jack that Ianto was also maintaining his reportedly dead girl friend, half-converted to a cyber woman, in the basement of Torchwood headquarters, Jack's own home! And then, when he did learn it, he'd had to wonder whether the flirting had all been a cover, a method of distracting him. Certainly Ianto'd done his research before approaching the leader of Torchwood Cardiff, and Jack did have a reputation…

But Jack just couldn't bring himself to believe that was all it was. He'd FELT Ianto's arousal, had also felt him respond to the kiss Jack'd given him, desperately trying to bring him back from the brink of death. But more than that, for four months he'd felt Ianto's eyes on him as he moved around the Hub, shared smiles and silent commentaries with him, tasted the coffee Ianto brought him. Surely his coffee represented real love, didn't it? Apathy or indifference couldn't possibly have created that amazing coffee, could it?

And it wasn't only _Ianto's_ emotions he was struggling to understand. In his two hundred and thirty some years, Jack had loved, and loved well. He'd had flings, one-night stands, brief dalliances, lengthy love affairs and true romances. He'd seduced, lusted and yearned. He'd lost and mourned. But never had he felt his heart clutch the way it had when he'd seen Ianto, beaten, battered and bruised, lying on the ground. Never before had his body bristled with the level of protectiveness he now felt, sitting vigil beside his young colleague. Perhaps he'd been that frightened before, but if so, he couldn't remember when it had been.

He'd barely been able to look at Ianto at the scene; Jack'd simply made sure he was in good hands, being cared for. He wouldn't have been able to function if he'd let his mind dwell on what the young man had gone through. Owen hadn't had any trouble with worrying about the perpetrators' "motivations". He'd summed up his assessment when he called the villagers "sick fuckers," and Jack had to agree. They'd long since lost the naivety to think that evil could be understood or explained. But Gwen's obsession with it had at least kept Jack's mind off of his youngest team member for a while.

He had to admit, he'd taken his eye off the ball, let his relationship with Ianto slide in the month since Gwen had joined the team. Jack couldn't deny that he found the former constable appealing. The life that he lived made "normalcy" feel like the Holy Grail. And Gwen was SO normal. Blue collar family, working class boyfriend, going out for a curry and a pint, watching rugby in a pub with a bunch of mates on Friday night… For God's sake, they even bowled! Heaven!! And Jack wasn't one to hold back when something or someone interested him. But over the weeks he'd increasingly found Gwen to be reactionary rather than thoughtful, and while Jack himself might sometimes appear mercurial, he valued thoughtfulness, stability, consistency, steadiness, and reliability in his companions.

He knew Ianto had been aware of his distraction. He'd felt the Welshman watching, heard his silence, and he'd ignored it. He knew Ianto was watching his weapons training session with Gwen on the CCTV, had to admit there was part of him that had reveled in the knowledge, hoped that it made Ianto jealous, hoped even that it hurt Ianto as the younger man's failure to go beyond their mutual flirting hurt him, hoped that it might push Ianto into making a move. But when Ianto appeared silently just after Gwen's departure, he'd wordlessly stored away the weapons Jack had out, and disappeared again. If only Jack'd had some inkling of everything Ianto had been struggling with, some sense of how deeply conflicted the young man was, how guilty his attraction to Jack made him feel…

Both his hurt over the betrayal of the young man he ached to make his lover, and his guilt over his neglect of the Welshman fired his anger at Ianto's betrayal with Lisa. Not that he wouldn't have been furious in any case. Loyalty was EVERYTHING in Jack's world. Personal loyalty. The team above all else. And they'd all just been buffeted by Suzie's treachery. But he might not have held a gun to someone else's head. And he almost certainly wouldn't have tried to force another team member to kill his or her lover.

Jack's motivation for taking Ianto to the Brecon Beacons the day before had been largely personal. Of course, he wanted to make the youngest staffer feel more like part of the team, expand his role, reaffirm his own confidence in the Welshman in front of their colleagues. Two weeks of silent treatment from the rest of the team was surely enough.

But he also had visions of sitting around a dying campfire, the younger man tucked in front of him, leaning back against a log long after the rest of the team had turned in for the night. He'd even stuck a bag of marshmallows into his personal gear. Oh, what he would have given for that scenario to have played out instead of what actually happened! If only he'd seen the case for the trap it had been instead of as an excuse for a team-building exercise…

On Jack's bed, Ianto moaned, interrupting the older man's musings. His eyes fluttered open, falling blurrily on his captain, seated next to the bed.

"Jack?" he queried.

"Shh, Ianto. Take it easy. You're okay…"

The events of the last twenty-four hours visibly flooded back into the young man's memory and he started to sit up suddenly, stopped acutely by sharp pains from all over his body.

"Hey, I said 'take it easy'!" Jack chided urgently, but not unkindly. "You've got multiple rib fractures, a bruised liver and contused muscles everywhere. If you have to move, move slowly! Do you need more pain medication? Owen left me with some…"

"Tosh?" Ianto inquired.

"Scared to death, but apparently physically fine. Owen told her she had to stay overnight in the hospital because she was throttled, but it's just a precaution. Gwen was staying with her for awhile and then going home. I sent Owen out after he finished patching you up, but it wouldn't surprise me if he ended up at the hospital too. I don't think anyone wanted to be alone tonight." He thought back to Owen's revelation regarding his last kiss, and wondered briefly if Gwen and Owen might find themselves somewhere other than the hospital tonight—not alone. But he also found that he was too tired to care. And it wasn't as if Owen hadn't bedded other colleagues in the past, without it interfering with team cohesiveness. He noted idly that the thought of Gwen in bed with another member of the team didn't bother him in the least either. Now, if it had been Ianto… The man in question interrupted his train of thought.

"And yet, here you are."

"I'm not alone. I'm with you."

Ianto lay back and closed his eyes.

"So, you drew the short stick, Sir?" he asked tiredly. Jack stared at him in amazement.

"Is that what you think?!"

His clear astonishment made Ianto's eyes fly open.

"Well, of course!"

"I had to fight off the rest of the team to stay alone with you, Yan."

"Sure."

"Really. If everyone else hadn't been so beaten up, I don't think I could have convinced them. Not even with a direct order. Maybe not even with a gun."

"They don't trust me. They barely even notice me."

"You saved Tosh's life. Believe me, she noticed. We all did."

"It didn't work. She didn't get away."

"Yan, that's not what matters. You risked your life to give her a chance. NO ONE is going to forget that." He paused, staring intently into Ianto's blue-gray eyes. "Yan, I am so, so sorry." In his apology, he heard an echo of the man who had shown him a different direction for his life._ How often since his travels with the Doctor had he said those words? Meaning it with every molecule of this body each and every time, just like his mentor…_

The younger man stared at him, not comprehending.

"Sorry for what?"

"For what happened to you. For putting you at risk. For not protecting you."

Ianto continued to stare at Jack.

"Protecting me? What happened wasn't your fault, Jack!"

"You should never have been there, Yan! I took you along because I wanted to cuddle with you in front of a campfire, eating s'mores!"

"Not because you wanted me to be part of the team?" His question was so faint, Jack had to strain to hear him.

"Of course because I wanted you to be part of the team. I didn't think we were going to find anything out there, Ianto. I thought it was a good excuse to go camping with _everyone_, get away from the Hub, spend some time together away from work."

"But if you had thought it was going to be a real case, you wouldn't have brought me. Because you don't think I can protect myself."

"My wanting to protect you doesn't have anything to do with my assessment of your abilities. It has to do with my feelings for you."

"You don't hesitate to send Gwen out on assignments."

"I don't have the same feelings for Gwen. I don't want to lose her, Yan. I don't want to lose anyone. But when I saw you, when I thought… If you'd been killed…"

"I don't understand."

"Don't you?" And holding Ianto's gaze, Jack leaned in and gently, deeply, reverently kissed the injured younger man. After a moment's hesitation, the Welshman reached out, wrapping a hand around the back of Jack's head and drawing him closer, preventing the captain from pulling away. Both were breathing hard when the kiss finally ended.

"But—Gwen. I've seen you with her. Flirting with her. Talking to her."

Jack nodded, then shrugged. "I flirt with everyone. You know that. But you're right. She's still so—untouched—by our lives. She didn't live through Canary Wharf, didn't see the aftermath. She didn't work with Suzie. She's not had to kill. She hasn't spent years fighting to prevent the end of the world. And I have been using her as a sounding board. More than I should, probably. But I liked her spunk, her determination. I liked that she looked at me like I was a superhero. It was flattering. And she'd seen me come back to life. _She_ liked that we had a secret. I think it made her feel important."

"Why _did_ you keep that such a secret, Jack?"

Harkness shrugged.

"Didn't want to weird anyone out. Didn't want you to look at me like a freak."

Ianto laughed, a little desperately.

"Don't you know, Jack, that's hardly the freakiest thing about you?"

Jack shot him a wan grin.

"Really?"

"Honestly. I'm a lot more freaked out by how I feel about you than I am that you come back to life after you die. Fifty-first century pheromones trump immortality every time. And what the hell are 's'mores' anyway?"

"Oh, we are SO going camping."

"I hated it before, Jack. After last night, I'm pretty sure I'm NEVER trying it again." Ianto paused, glancing around the room. "How about that? I made it into your bunker."

"Hey, if I'd know all it would take to get you into my bed was almost get you killed by a psychopath, I'd have done it ages ago."

"Jack?"

"Yeah, Yan?"

"Do you think--would you mind—" But then he fell silent. Jack started to ask what it was he wanted, but the naked fear, yearning loneliness and utter fatigue radiating from the younger man's face answered his question and stayed his tongue. Rising from his chair and carefully sliding onto bed beside Ianto, Jack gently took him into his arms.

"Shhhh. Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere, Yan. You go to sleep. I'll watch over you." He felt the Welshman relaxing in his embrace. And within a few minutes the injured man dozed off again.

Jack lay still, feeling Ianto's breathing, his heart beat, reassured by its slow and steady rhythm, grateful for the opportunity to comfort this man who had come to mean so much to him, the man who, despite everything that had happened over the last couple of weeks, had come back to him, had turned to him for comfort, who, despite his own ongoing suffering had, when Jack had needed it most, offered comfort of his own…

A week earlier, Jack had driven back from Old Forest Road in complete quiet. The Range Rover had screamed with the pointed silence of his companions. He'd gotten no answer to his question of "What else could I do?" No one had answered. No one had commented. No one had argued. No one had yelled. No one had spoken. Not in the vehicle. Not during the drive. Not at the car park where they'd scuttled away like sand crabs. He had trudged alone back to the base.

Expecting to have the place to himself, Jack was startled when Ianto handed him a fresh steaming mug of Irish coffee as soon as he entered the Hub.

"What are you still doing here? You should be home. Everyone else has gone home."

"Figured someone should be watching the Rift monitors while you were out." He paused, emboldened a little by their last middle of the night conversation, by the familiar hand Jack had rested on his shoulder. "Figured maybe you could use some company."

"I don't think I'd be very good company just now, Ianto."

"And maybe that means you shouldn't be alone."

"The rest of the team scattered pretty damned fast. Headed straight from the SUV to their own vehicles. Didn't even come in from the car park." _Didn't even say 'good night'. _

Ianto eyed him steadily.

"Don't mistake their issues for your problem."

"You're the one who said it, Yan. I'm a monster. I traded that little girl for a bit of security."

"Jack, you did the only thing you could possibly have done. With Jas." He paused, struggling to get the next words out. "With—Lisa." Jack looked at him sharply. Ianto continued. "I may not be happy about what happened, I may even hate you for it, but I'm not blind to the position I put you in, to the choices you had to make. 'A bit of security'? You literally saved the world, Jack, twice in a week. Most people would consider that a pretty decent day's work."

"I would have helped you, you know, Ianto, if you'd come to me in the beginning. I don't know if the outcome would have been different, but I would have tried."

The Welshman studied him thoughtfully.

"I know that now. I believe it, I do. But then—there's no way I could have risked it, Jack. You were Torchwood. I'd worked at Torchwood. I saw how they operated, even if I only worked as a junior researcher. Torchwood London is different. They don't capture and confine rogue Weevils, trying to understand their motivation, trying to figure out where they come from and how to get them home. They exterminate them. All aliens, hostile or not. Torchwood London would have shot down sightseeing UFOs, not waved them off. And they would have killed Myfanwy instead of making her into a pet …"

"Yet you asked me to help you with her."

Ianto shrugged.

"I was going to do my best to protect her, but I NEEDED to get into Torchwood. I needed the facilities, the archives. And I didn't think much of her life expectancy flying around Cardiff, hunting. I couldn't take care of her in that warehouse, even if she weren't discovered. I couldn't take care of both her and Lisa. There was no way."

"And later? You couldn't have come to me later?"

"How exactly? 'Hey, Jack, I know you never really wanted me here, and I'm pretty much a glorified maid, but I've got to tell you, I've had a half-converted cyberman secreted down in the bowels of your base since I got here, and I need your help to make her human again? Oh, and even though I've been lying to you all this time, and she could put the world in danger, please don't fire me over this, or hurt my girl friend.' That would have worked, would it? I should have been sure enough of you to risk Lisa's life on that?"

Jack sighed heavily, acknowledging Ianto's logic and changing the subject. "You should have seen how Gwen looked at me today."

Ianto snorted. "Gwen. Now that one opens her mouth without engaging her brain. I've never met anyone less able to consider the consequences of things before speaking. Don't worry, whatever she's upset about, it'll have blown over by tomorrow." He eyed Jack, speculatively. "I'm still not clear on what you find so fascinating about her."

Jack waved off the query, not sure he knew the answer himself. "She's just a member of the team, Ianto. And new. Torchwood is a whole new world for her. I've been trying to help her get up to speed."

Ianto rolled his eyes, but didn't challenge the outright lie.

"I told her everything," Jack continued, now more to himself than Ianto. "I told her about the troop train, my men, Estelle. She was there when I found Estelle, she heard the threats from the faeries, and she still didn't understand. She didn't even try." He was silent for a moment, then looked up at his companion, studying the contrasting deep sympathy and understanding he saw there.

"Oh, and Yan?"

"Hmmm?"

"Don't ever think that I don't want you." He paused, before continuing softly, "I don't think I've ever been as relieved as I was when I saw you come back in through the Hub door that next day. After…" He caught and held Ianto's eyes for a long moment, then Ianto reached out and took the hand not occupied by a coffee cup, leading him toward the stairs.

"Come on, Sir. Bring your drink. I figured you probably hadn't eaten in quite awhile, so I ordered up soup and sandwiches for us. They're set up in the conference room. And I got Llanddarog Fair Cakes. I know how you love them."

Jack glanced up at him with a small smile.

"Not Y Gacen Amhosibl?" he asked.

"That would be MY favorite," Ianto told him severely. "Tonight is about you."

Jack sat across the table from the youngest member of his team, not talking much, just eating, drinking, being fussed over. Atypically, Ianto kept up a running monologue, practically chattering, telling funny stories from his childhood, from Torchwood One. Jack watched, and listened, and wondered when the last time had been that someone actually _took care of _him. The Doctor? Rose? No. Estelle? Had she fussed over him? Probably, but he couldn't actually remember it. Jack was a caretaker, a leader, someone who never was hurt or sick. Not a lot of opportunity to play the caretak-ee.

But Ianto was a caretaker too—he used actions rather than words to show his feelings--and Jack realized that actually the Welshman _had_ already been taking care of him for the past several months. Not as overtly as he was that night, but all day, everyday. How many times had Ianto slipped a sandwich into his hand before he realized that he was starving, or held his freshly brushed coat up for him so that he could slip it on as he was preparing to leave the Hub, brought him a fresh cup of coffee just as the last one cooled past the perfect temperature for drinking, fielded a telephone call from UNIT or NATO or the Prime Minister's office when Jack didn't want to talk to them, or when temperamentally he wasn't in good shape to hold his tongue? And how much of Torchwood Three's paperwork just seemed to melt away since Ianto arrived, always done, always neat, always complete? When was the last time he'd had to worry whether the Weevils had been fed, or the cells cleaned? Or the last time he emerged from his bunker in the morning without finding Ianto already at work, with a cup of coffee ready and waiting? Jack just hadn't paid attention, hadn't really noticed. That night he did, and he let the warmth of that recognition spill over him. That night he had basked in being cherished.

And now, just a week later, lying on his bed, wide awake in the middle of the night, holding the sleeping Welshman, listening to his breathing, remembering, Jack discovered that he liked _cherishing_ just as much.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

22 November

Ianto Jones awoke suddenly, all senses on alert. He was in a strange bed, curled up in someone's arms. There was no outside light, but an illuminated clock told him it was early morning. And he hurt EVERYWHERE. The events of the past day flooded into his memory and he realized that he was back at the Hub, down in Jack's bunker, entwined with the man he loved and hated and yearned so deeply for. A single deep inhalation confirmed his conclusion. That scent was so uniquely Jack.

He'd said some awful things to Jack after Lisa's death. During Lisa's death. It was still hard to know how to think about that. He had no doubt that what had died that day, in Annie's body, cut down by a firestorm of bullets from his friends' guns, had not been Lisa. From the time he found Dr. Tanizaki's body, he'd known deep inside that Lisa was gone. Oh, he'd made excuses initially, and had been SO torn...

Not that he'd ever hesitated to protect his friends. They were not a sacrifice he'd ever have been willing to make. But he'd so wanted to be able to have his new life AND Lisa too. And for awhile he had. Jack might be convinced that Lisa had died at Canary Wharf, but Ianto had spent four months taking care of Lisa, spending time with her, sharing stories, making plans, dreams. The woman who corrected Dr. Tanizaki when he called Ianto her "friend"—that _was_ the Lisa he had always known. The Lisa he loved. The excitement on her face, the need to share it with him when she found herself off of life support, "I'm ALIVE!"--that too _had been_ Lisa.

It was the last time he'd really seen Lisa, except for that brief flash with Annie—oh, Annie! he was SO sorry!!--recounting a memory, that monster who had killed two people and was a threat to the world, but sounded so like the woman he'd loved. He wished he knew what had changed. Perhaps Dr. Tanizaki tripped some switch while working to disconnect Lisa, perhaps that moment of apnea when the machines went off rebooted some cyber circuit, perhaps whatever it was that made her a cyberman had simply been lying dormant, waiting to make a move. Whatever it was, the cyber expert had paid a very high price. And that would always be yet another burden Ianto would have to bear, a guilt he would have to live with. Tanizaki had come to help, and it had cost him his life.

Jack had almost killed him that day. Ianto'd seen it in his eyes. And he would have welcomed it. Because he'd seen more there than just Jack's anger. He'd seen his own betrayal, Jack's hurt, Jack's love. That Jack, the ultimate secret keeper, was enraged by Ianto's own secret might have seemed ironic, but Jack had made it clear what upset him the most:

"You brought this down on us. You hid her. _You hid yourself from us._ Now it's

time for you to stand as part of the team. The girl you loved has gone. Your loyalty is to _**us **_now."

And Ianto had to admit, no matter how little they might know about Jack's history, his motivations, his anything, the one thing the Captain had never done was hide _himself_ from his friends.

Ianto shifted a little, and he heard Jack's breathing alter in response.

"Yan?" Jack asked softly, his voice heavy with sleep. "You awake?"

"Yeah."

"How're you feeling?"

Ianto's only response was a desperate laugh.

Jack glanced at his timepiece.

"I'll go see if Owen's made it in. I told the girls obviously they weren't expected, but Owen was going to come check on you. We'll get you some pain meds before you try to get out of bed."

Jack gently eased away from the younger man, and reluctantly Ianto let him go. In the process of climbing over the Welshman and off the bed, Jack dislodged the sheet that had been covering him. He sucked in a breath involuntarily as his eyes fell on the torso of his young friend.

"God, Yan!"

There was no visible part of Ianto's beautiful body that wasn't some hue of purple, green, brown or yellow. Patterned bruises demonstrated where various types of tools and equipment had been used to strike him. Boot marks marred his back and stomach.

"Don't, Jack, please. You just make it worse!" Ianto protested.

With great effort, Jack tore his eyes away.

"Don't you move! I'll be right back," and he headed up the ladder.

To Jack's great relief, Owen was in the Hub, standing, contemplating the coffee machine.

"Why is it, do you think, that only the Teaboy can get this thing to work?"

Jack shook his head.

"I'm not kidding when I call it 'coffee magic'. That machine's been there more than a hundred years that I'm aware of, and before Ianto the best it ever achieved was drinkable joe. Which is still better than _you've_ ever gotten it to produce."

"Oh, because _your_ coffee is so superior to mine?" Owen shook his head. "So, boss, he awake?"

"Yeah, and in a lot of pain. You sure he wouldn't be better off in hospital?"

"I never said he wouldn't be better off, just that he didn't _need _to go. Not like Tosh, who is fine, by the way. I went by this morning. She's being discharged and is going to stay with Gwen and Rhys for a day or two."

"Good," Jack replied absently. "Now, get your stuff and come take a look at Ianto."

Even Owen couldn't help wincing when he saw the bruises that had evolved overnight.

"Oi, mate! You look more like abstract art than a person!"

Ianto shot him an annoyed look.

"Got any good drugs in that bag?"

Owen flushed. He might consciously cultivate his asshole personality, but he was a fine doctor, and he took that seriously. It wasn't often that something distracted him from plying his craft.

"Yeah, mate, I do. Hang on one sec, we'll get you nice and happy, then take a look at how you're doing."

He reached into his medical kit and pulled out a vial and a syringe, smoothly drawing up 10 mg of morphine, cleaning the site and injecting the analgesic intramuscularly high up on his patient's butt. Ianto yelped at the injection but after a few moments he visibly relaxed and his breathing became less ragged.

"Better?" Owen asked.

"Much, yes, thanks."

"I'm going to give you a couple more minutes for that to really kick in, and then I'm going to take a look at you, okay?"

Ianto's gaze moved across the room, found and held Jack's eyes.

"Yes, " he answered softly, never wavering from Jack's intense look.

Owen did his best to be gentle, but Jack found himself wincing along with Ianto at nearly every touch.

"Well, you look like crap, but I think you're going to survive," Owen concluded brusquely as he finished his exam. "You ready to get out of bed?" He glanced over at the ladder which was the main access in and out of the bunker. "Not sure you're ready to escape this chamber, but I figure you might want the loo, and a shower." He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes, please," Ianto acknowledged. He'd become very aware of his full bladder when Owen had poked at it. Jack moved closer.

"How can I help?"

He and Owen maneuvered Ianto around, as gently as they could, although even with the morphine on board, it was clearly extremely painful.

"I'm sorry, Yan," Jack told him softly.

"No worries, Sir," the younger man hissed through clenched teeth. After several long minutes, he was standing, grasping the captain's forearm for balance. Owen stepped back and surveyed him critically, then gave a brief nod of approval.

"Can you walk, mate?" With Jack at his side, supporting him, Ianto shuffled his way to the bathroom.

"Want me to leave?" Jack asked in Ianto's ear. The Welshman glanced at him grateful for the offer, but with a rueful smile shook his head.

"I think sensibility had better override modesty this morning, Sir," he whispered back.

"Ah, if I had known all it would take to get to see—"

"Yes, Sir, I know: you would have arranged it long ago."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

24 November

"Oi! Look who's getting up and about on his own!" Owen exclaimed when he saw Ianto gingerly emerging from Jack's office. The climb had been slow and painful, but the Welshman had been determined to get out to the Hub and make it on his own.

"I was going to get a coffee," he told the medic.

"I would have brought you one," Owen answered. Ianto stared at him in disbelief. Did he honestly think that Ianto was going to drink the swill Owen produced from his precious machine? The doctor flushed under the younger man's scrutiny.

"Well, I could have run up to the coffee shop on the Plass."

Ianto nodded in acknowledgement. Their coffee was nearly drinkable.

They were silent for a moment, and Ianto took advantage of the opportunity to glance around.

"Where's Jack?" he asked curiously. The captain had rarely been out of his sight for the last three days.

"You were sleeping, so he ran out to get food. I volunteered to hang around in case you needed anything."

Ianto started to protest that he didn't need a babysitter, but realized not only did it sound churlish, it was probably untrue.

"Thanks."

"No problem, mate. Nice to see you up. How are you feeling?"

Ianto shot him a wan, ironic smile.

"Sore."

"Want something for the pain?"

But he shook his head.

"Not just now. It's not like it was two days ago. I can handle it at the moment."

"I know you CAN, I'm just suggesting that you don't necessarily NEED to. Want to change your mind?"

"No. Thanks."

"You know, you don't _deserve_ to be in pain, Teaboy. This isn't some cosmic penance you're paying—it's the aftermath of stopping psychotic serial killers. It's okay to take pain medication, okay to be comfortable, at least as comfortable as you can be."

"What makes you so sure it _isn't_ penance? It's not like I'm _really_ a member of the team. All of you, Jack recruited you. I badgered him into letting me in—wore him down. And do you know why he took me into the field? Because he didn't think it was a real case. He expected a team building exercise, camping. I'm just the bloody butler, and I keep putting the rest of you in danger."

"You can't think that, Ianto," Owen told him gruffly. "When Gwen asked Jack about going after you, he told her that you knew what you were doing, that you and Tosh could take care of yourselves. He didn't have any doubts about your abilities."

"Looks like he was wrong, though, eh?"

"Every ten years for generations, Teaboy, hundreds of people, and no one else _**ever **_survived. I'd say he got it right. Which doesn't mean he wasn't going out of his mind with worry. I tell you, mate, I don't want to know what would have happened if we hadn't found you alive. And before that, back when, well—when you disappeared down into the tombs, and the power was acting up, and we thought we were under attack, do you know what Jack said? He told everyone, 'The priority is to find Ianto.' No matter what else was going on, no matter who was attacking us or why, YOU were his priority. That man _cares_ for you. And that hasn't changed. Not because of what happened with Lisa, not because of what happened on the Brecon Beacons. Oi, the first two times I met Jack, I tried to beat the crap out of him. I wanted to kill him. Yet here I am. Jack understands matters of the heart, and he understands forgiveness. I know Jack has moved past what happened. Don't you think it's time you forgive yourself?"

"The first two times _I_ met Jack, I wanted to shag him," Ianto admitted with a small smile, barely registering Owen's answering chortle.

Ianto thought back to hearing Jack's garbled words through failing comm link as he struggled to hide Tanizaki's body, '_Ianto? I need to hear those beautiful Welsh vowels!_' and to the sight of Jack bursting through the wall at Brynblaidd, guns blazing, like an avenging angel. Even when Jack had been fighting him while Lisa was being attacked by Myfanwy, ordering him, threatening to kill him, he had never stopped trying to convince Ianto of the truth as he saw it, to win him over to his point of view, explaining where he was coming from.

Ianto would never have expected to turn to Owen for insight into Jack, but the medic had certainly given him food for thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

25 November

Jack figured he should have known an entirely quiet shift was too much to ask for. It was the first day he'd called everyone back in to work, and they'd spent it separately, everyone trying to catch up on his or her personal projects and paperwork. Not a blip from the rift monitor. And then, late in the afternoon, Tosh's computer had beeped.

"Multiple reports of a UFO over the bay," she reported calmly.

"Pull up whatever we have, would you?" Jack asked her, moving swiftly to her work station. He started at the various feeds for a moment before announcing, "Ianto, it's you and me. The rest of you can finish up what you're doing and head home. See you in the morning."

Owen stared at Jack in disbelief.

"Someone tried very hard to kill him five days ago, and nearly succeeded. He's barely able to walk around the Hub without holding his ribs. You can't be serious about taking him out in the field. Not to mention he's the butler, not a bloody field agent." Owen turned away from Jack and shot a quick wink at Ianto as he paraphrased the younger man's earlier outburst, taking the sting out of his words.

Jack glared at Owen.

"Seems to me he did as well as anyone on our last mission. And I'm the one who decides when someone is or isn't fit for the field. Your objection is noted, but overridden. Finish what you're working on and go home." He glanced across the Hub where the youngest member of his team stood uncertainly on a cat walk. "Ianto?"

"Coming, Sir."

* * *

Jack toned down his driving out of deference to Ianto's ribs, going slower than usual, taking curves with greater care, trying to minimize the bumps.

"You all right, Yan?" he asked.

"Yep. Do you mind if I ask where we're going?"

"CCTV showed a first generation Arkan leisure crawler over the bay."

Ianto threw him a curious look.

"Don't we usually just send them a friendly wave, remind them that this is a Level Five planet and send them on their way?"

"Usually, but in this case the ship looked like it was having engine trouble. Based on the feeds, I think it may have crash landed, somewhere around Goldcliff. The Arkans are no threat, other than being the longest-winded talkers in the universe, but we still need to get there before the locals do and get them on their way."

Ianto pouted a little.

"So you picked me because you knew there wasn't going to be anything to do. To have someone to talk to."

Jack glanced over at him.

"I picked you because I needed the person who could think the fastest on his feet, and be able to intercede if the locals do beat us there. You do officious better than anyone. I've heard you talk down the Prime Minister. Cardiff PD knows to back off when Torchwood arrives, but who knows about the Newport constabulary? Besides, I thought you probably want to get out of the Hub. You've been locked up for days. Not to mention, I thought you might like an up close look at a real UFO. And," he paused, then admitted, "I want your company. But that wasn't my primary motivation."

"Aren't you sick of me yet?"

Ianto had yet to move from Jack's quarters, although Jack himself had transitioned from the bed to his office couch after the second night. Ianto found himself missing the comfort of sleeping in the older man's arms.

"Hardly."

"That couch can't be all that comfortable."

"A lumpy couch isn't what's keeping me up at night." He shot a hot innuendo-laden look across the car at his companion. Ianto flushed, and bit back a smile. So, at least he wasn't the only one affected by this attraction…

Ianto knew that Jack, quite reasonably, had questions about whether Ianto's initial flirting had been calculated , and Ianto certainly would have done almost anything to get access to the Hub had it occurred to him, but the reality was that he had never before felt the instant attraction he had to Jack for ANYONE. And his first comment on Jack's coat had been out of his mouth before he was even conscious of the thought, much less making a decision to say it out loud.

Ianto would have liked to be able to pretend that it had all been a part of some master plan, but the truth was that, even with everything going on with Lisa, Jack had swept him off of his feet from the moment he'd laid eyes on the captain.

It was about a forty-five minute drive up the coast, which meant that Jack would have normally made it in twenty or so. With his driving restraint they'd been on the road for a good half-hour before reaching the turn-off from the M4 onto Docks Way, which led into Pillgwenlly and Somerton, and more than three quarters of an hour when Jack turned from Spytty Road onto Nash for the final three miles or so into Goldcliff. They'd driven through some fairly heavy downpours en route, but arrived to a strong gusty wind but no precipitation. And the unseasonably balmy weather that they'd had all month persisted, so the wind lacked that biting cold edge typical of Wales in November. The Captain pulled to a stop just past the intersection with Chapel Road, where a finger of the bay (_or at that point, was it already considered the mouth of the Severn?_) reached up and touched the roadway. Ianto was busily scanning for alien tech as the car gently came to rest. A family of swans waddled along the roadside and cast them an unconcerned look. Further inland a handful of sheep were scattered about, looking for late November sprouts.

"It's just southwest of here, Sir, about 800 meters."

Jack eyed his companion thoughtfully.

"Would you prefer to stay here or do you feel up to a walk through the marsh? I certainly could use you to wave off the locals, but…"

"If it's all right with you, Sir, I _would_ like to see the ship."

"Okay, then, let's go."

With Jack uncharacteristically carrying both the pack with their supplies and a gear bag, they headed out across the windswept flats. They were unable to see anything out of the ordinary from the roadway, but followed their sensors toward the bay. When they were roughly a half-kilometer in, a thin wisp of smoke appeared in the sky.

"Oh, that doesn't look good," Ianto muttered under his breath. Jack followed his gaze.

"Hopefully that's just the pilots venting their systems," Harkness told him, "and not something that will keep us from being able to get them back in the sky and off planet. Have I told you that they're mostly made of liquid, and the cells would be a mess if we needed to put them up?"

"I think you've mentioned it a time or two, Sir," Ianto answered dryly, fairly certain who would get those janitorial duties, regardless of recent injuries.

The ship was about the size of a small caravan and looked remarkably like a flying saucer from a 1950s B movie. Ianto glanced at Jack in amazement, to find his captain watching him with amusement.

"Who woulda thought, eh? Makes you wonder a little about Fred Sersen, doesn't it?"

Ianto looked at him curiously.

"Special effects guy for _The Day the Earth Stood Still_," Jack explained.

"Do all space ships look like Hollywood flying saucers?"

Jack chuckled. "Hardly. But I'm sure that's one of the reasons I have such affection for these first generation Leisure Crawlers. " He turned towards the ship and cupped his hands around his mouth as they approached.

"Ahoy, the ship!"

The two men paused twenty feet or so from the gently steaming saucer. After a minute a wispy high-pitched voice wafted over the marsh.

"Captain Jack Harkness?"

Jack cocked his head, listening, considering.

"Oooolie? Is that you?"

"Jack! Come aboard! It's been too long…"

Jack looked to Ianto for consent. Intrigued, the young man nodded.

"Love to, Oooolie. Thank you."

A previously invisible hatch opened in the side of the ship, and Jack led the way on board. Ianto looked curiously around at the smooth surfaces and blinking lights. Except for its two occupants, the inside the ship looked every bit as much the product of a Hollywood set designer as the outside. The crew on the other hand…

"Oooolie, I'd like you to meet Ianto Jones, my right hand man. Ianto, this is my friend Oooolie. Oh! And this can't be Luuuu!" Jack commented, looking at the smaller of the two rippling spheres of liquid. At his comment, the sphere's hue morphed from a clear blue to a slightly muddy light green.

"Sorry, Buddy! Didn't mean to embarrass you—it's just that you're so grown up! Out traveling around the universe with your dad!" He turned to the senior member of the ship's two-man crew. "So, Oooolie, what are you doing on Earth?"

Now it was the elder Arkan's turn to color slightly.

"I wanted to show the boy whales."

Jack shook his head slowly, putting on a disappointed face.

"Oooolie, Oooolie, Oooolie, you KNOW Earth is a Level Five planet. No contact, no flybys."

If a six foot tall drop of water could hang its head in shame, this one did.

"I just wanted him to see… While there still are… We saw a bubble net. It was amazing, but then…" He mumbled. "Didn't mean any harm. Didn't mean to crash land."

"No, I know you didn't," Jack conceded. "And every boy _should_ see whales." He glanced up to see Ianto's perplexed look. Jack cocked an eyebrow in enquiry.

"Every boy should see Wales?" Ianto asked quietly. "I mean, I love my country but… And what's a 'bubble net'."

Jack's face split in a smile of sudden enlightenment.

"Whales, Ianto, not Wales. Moby Dick, not the land of the _rhudd draig_. And a bubble net is a method humpbacks use to confuse and catch fish. Really spectacular. We should go whale watching sometime." He turned his attention back to his alien friend. "So… What's the matter with your ship? What do we need to do to get you back in the air?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N--So, anyone enjoying this? If so (or if not) mind leaving a review? Thanks!

Chapter Five

"Jack?" He was elbow deep in engine parts when his earpiece flared to life.

"What's up Tosh?"

"They've been a little slow, but you're about to get company."

"Try to wave them off, would you?"

"I already did, Jack. The response I got was 'What the fuck is bloody _Torchwood_?'"

Jack smiled at the sound of those obscenities coming out of Tosh's mouth. Owen and Gwen might use that language constantly, but Toshiko never swore.

"Not promising," he commented.

"That's what I thought."

"ETA?"

"You've got maybe five minutes."

Jack looked over at Ianto.

"Yan? We've got the locals on the way, and they're apparently not too impressed by 'We're Torchwood.' Think you can go run interference while I finish up here?"

"Of course, Sir."

"Keep them away from here, Yan."

Ianto nodded, and looked over at the two Arkans.

"It was very nice to meet you," he told them formally.

"Likewise, Ianto, friend of Captain Jack, " Oooolie replied. "Maybe sometime we could take the two of you on a pleasure trip. A weekend on Midnight, perhaps? Nothing more romantic than standing at the base of the Sapphire Waterfall…"

"I"—Ianto looked helplessly at Jack, who didn't help at all. "That might be nice, sometime," he finally stuttered, "if Jack wants to go."

Satisfaction wormed its way into Oooolie's wispy tone. "Excellent. I'll look forward to it. Safe travels, Ianto Jones."

With a final nod of his head, Ianto headed out of the ship and back along the narrow trail towards the road. He reached there just as two local police cars pulled up on either side of his vehicle.

"Ianto Jones, Torchwood. We have this."

"Oh, 'Torchwood' are you? And just what is that supposed to be?"

"A bit out of the loop here in Newport, are you? Torchwood is special ops. We have priority in any situation in which we choose to exert jurisdiction."

"Priority. Really. Let me tell you something son, in this town, we're the only priority."

"Oh, really? Would you prefer to speak with the Presiding Officer of the National Assembly, or with the Prime Minister?" He held out his phone. "I have both on speed dial."

"Prime Minister? Prime Minister of what?"

"Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, First Lord of the Treasury Harriet Jones. Is she your preference?" He'd almost been hoping that would be their choice, as he hadn't made the trek across the Plass to the Senedd to take coffee to the Presiding Officer since being injured (an errand he did with semi-regularity as the Assembly's willingness to turn a blind eye to all things Torchwood was a valuable asset, and they were, after all, Torchwood's closest neighbor and one of it's largest funding sources) and didn't really want to have to explain his absence in front of his current audience. Particularly as he hadn't yet figured out what he was going to say.

The cops were both still laughing when Ianto held up a hand to quiet them.

"Security visa 45907. Jones. Yes, Madame Prime Minister? It's Ianto. We seem to be having a bit of jurisdictional quandary with the Newport Constable's office. Thought you might be able to give me a bit of assistance."

He handed the phone to the nearest officer.

"This is Constable Alun Blevins. And to whom might I be speaking?" Ianto had no idea just what the prime minister said, but the officer went white, and after a stuttering series of "yes, ma'am, I'm sorry ma'ams" he wordlessly handed the phone back to Ianto. Ianto put the phone back to his ear.

"Madam Prime Minister?" Her comments made him smile. "Yes, ma'am. Me as well. Thank you as always. I'll talk to you soon." He disconnected, then eyed the motionless officers.

"Ianto Jones, Torchwood. We have this," he repeated. This time both officers stood taller.

"Yes, Sir," replied the first officer. "And how can we be of the most use to you?"

Ianto glance back to see Jack trudging back through the flats, hauling their equipment, looking like he'd just stepped off of a fashion runway—_how does he DO that_?

"That's Capt. Harkness. Looks like we've wrapped up, but maybe you could wait just until he reaches us?"

"Of course, Sir. And about earlier, Sir…"

But Ianto waved him off.

"Just remember next time—Torchwood_ always_ has jurisdiction."

"Yes, Sir. And I'll spread the word."

As Jack drew closer, Ianto could see the subtle signs of fatigue—the result of several sleepless nights, a hike through the marsh hauling gear, and whatever had been involved in repairing the spaceship--but nothing that would be noticeable to anyone who didn't know him intimately. Clearly the already cowed constables were impressed.

"Capt. Jack Harkness," Jack greeted them, throwing Ianto a glance.

"Constables Alun Blevins and Pedr Telford, sir. We just stopped to offer our assistance."

Ianto smirked slightly, but didn't contest the assertion.

"Well, thank you, boys. Always nice when the men and women in uniform are willing to give Torchwood a hand. But I think we've pretty much got it wrapped up here, so you might as well head out. We're just going to load up the truck and go ourselves."

As he talked, Jack maneuvered around the two officers, causing them to turn with their backs to the bay, just in case Oooolie decided not to wait for the "all clear" to take off. Leisure cruisers were remarkably quiet, but it was a little hard to miss a flying saucer taking off from 800 meters away if you were staring straight at it.

"Do you need any help loading up, Sir?" asked Telford. Jack shot Ianto another glance. Whatever gun he'd pulled out to assure the local cooperation, it had been a big one.

"Harriet," Ianto mouthed at him. Jack struggled to suppress his grin. The Doctor might have his issues with her, but Jack was a fan, even if he didn't always agree with everything she believed. Besides, the Doctor didn't have to work with her on a regular basis. Torchwood did. Much better to have her as an ally than an adversary. And as Ianto had taken over most of Torchwood Three's interactions with the assorted powers that be (_one part of the job Jack had been THRILLED to give up_) over the last few months, he and the Prime Minister had developed a fairly warm relationship.

"Thanks, but it's just this stuff here," he answered as Ianto lifted the hatch so that he could swing the equipment in. "You boys have a nice day."

"Yes, Sir. You too. Thank you, Sir." He hesitated. "Um, Sir, if you don't mind my asking..."

"Swamp gas," Jack replied.

"Very good, Sir," And looking less than convinced, Blevins and Telford made their way to their respective vehicles. As the cars pulled away, Jack visibly sagged.

"You okay, Sir?"

"Yeah, just tired. Let's get out of here, Yan…"

"So, those are Arkans. I thought you said they were verbose," Ianto commented once they were back in the Range Rover and underway. He'd offered to drive, but Jack had shut him down with a single disbelieving glance.

"They are, when they aren't embarrassed out of their minds. Definitely counted in our favor. Besides, Oooolie is the one Arkan I've always actually liked. He's a lot more interesting than most of his species. And you did leave before he really got on a roll. Something about solar flares affecting whale activity around the earth. I don't know—I tuned him out at that point."

He paused and glanced across at Ianto.

"A weekend on Midnight would be pretty romantic, Yan. The planet is supposed to be beautiful, and they have this spa…"

"We'll see. At least it's not camping." The corners of Jack's lips quirked up, but he didn't reply.

They'd been driving in silence for some minutes before Jack changed the subject, commenting, "You did a good job with the officers. Thanks, Yan."

Ianto's reply was so soft, Jack had to strain to hear it.

"Yeah, not as big a fuck up as I was at the damnedable Brynblaidd, at least. Didn't almost get anyone else killed this time."

Jack threw him an incredulous look.

"Yan, how many time to I have to tell you that you did just fine in the Brecon Beacons! Better than fine! As well or better than anyone on the team! You were the only one not to point your gun at a team member at some point. Gwen, Owen and Tosh all did. You weren't the one who flipped out in the middle of clearing a house. That was Gwen. And you didn't let Gwen walk into the spray from a shotgun—I did that. Tosh told me that you never lost your cool, even when they came after you with a baseball bat. Beaten and handcuffed, and you gave her the opportunity to escape."

"But Jack, I was SO scared!"

"That's what being brave is, Ianto." Jack glanced away from the road to survey his young colleague. "Holding it together when you _ARE_ scared. People who aren't scared in situation like that are stupid, not brave."

"Tosh lied about me holding it together. I yelled at her, accused her of enjoying the danger."

"She told me. And she told me that then you went right back to helping her try to assess your situation, try to figure a way out. I did a little yelling myself, you know. Ianto, what we faced? What those people were doing? It was terrifying. Only a madman wouldn't have been afraid!"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

30 November 2006

Although Ianto had moved back to his own apartment at the beginning of the week, he found himself lingering at the Hub after the rest of the team had gone home. It was partly habit, although in the past he had stayed to spend time with Lisa, and to see to her needs. But it was also because he was reluctant each night to say 'goodbye' to Jack. Although improved, the pain of his injuries persisted, as did the ache in his heart, now made worse by the events of the day, by the betrayal of Tosh and the death of her lover at Jack's hand, stirring up Ianto's unresolved feelings about both Lisa and Jack; he wasn't quite ready to take the next step in his relationship with Jack, but he also desperately missed the intimacy he'd experienced staying with him after the Brecon Beacons—_would he ever again be able to even think the name of that spectacular park without feeling a chill run down his spine_? His soul hurt, his body hurt, and his heart was just beginning to show the first signs of healing.

So, Ianto had tarried down in the archives, taken his time with Janet and her fellow weevils, then lingered with Myfanwy while she ate. His relationship with the dinosaur grew steadily stronger, and had just reached the point at which she allowed him to touch her, scratch her above her eye ridge in the evenings after she'd eaten. That night she'd seemed in no hurry to take off, and so they had stayed for a long while, lonely man and anachronistic pterodactyl, enjoying the unlikely bond that had been forged between them.

It was therefore much later than usual when Ianto made his way back to the Hub, and instantly clear that Jack believed he had the place entirely to himself, as he was dancing about the place, clutching some piece of alien tech in lieu of a microphone, singing unabashedly at the top of his lungs, in the middle of belting out a Cole Porter standard from the 1930s:

…_If driving fast cars you like,_

_If low bars you like,_

_If old hymns you like,_

_If bare limbs you like,_

_If Mae West you like,_

_Or me undressed you like,_

_Why, nobody will oppose!_

_And every night,_

_The set that's smart_

_Is indulging in Torchwood parties in studios,_

_Anything Goes. _

_Anything, Anything, Anything, Anything Goes. _

_Anything Goes._

Ianto stood stock still in the shadow of the entry, watching. Not that anything should surprise him any more about Jack, but he was really good! As in "star of stage and screen" good, for real! London or Broadway good. Hearing the Torchwood reference, watching Jack ham up the ending, Ianto held his breath for fear of interrupting the performance; as soon as Jack was done, he stepped forward, no longer able to withhold his applause.

"Jack! I didn't know you could sing!"

Still panting, Jack swung around, staring at the younger man in surprise.

"Ianto? What are you doing here?"

The Welshman shrugged.

"I was just finishing up. Feeding Myfanwy. You're very talented, Sir."

"I—I don't generally sing for an audience," Jack paused, and the younger man smiled—_who ever would have imagined Jack would be reticent about doing ANYTHING in public!--_and then Jack continued, "but I like it. It relaxes me. I like that era, Cole Porter, Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, swing, big bands, like the way it feels to sing those lyrics, so—innocent, trying so hard to be just a little risqué, and…" He hit a button on his wrist strap, and strains of _In the Mood_ wafted through the Hub. Jack held out his arms in invitation.

"As long as you're here, Yan, care to dance?"

Ianto hesitated. Propriety warred with desire, and after a moment he stepped forward and walked across the Hub until he found himself standing directly in front of Jack.

"Yes, Sir, I would."

Earlier in the evening, Jack had left Toshiko up on the Plass and gone in search of Ianto, hoping to take him out to dinner, to get him away from the Hub, to talk to him about the thoughts Tosh had reported overhearing. It came as no surprise to Jack that alone amongst his colleagues, Ianto's thoughts weren't catty or cruel. Of course, he was somewhat glad that the Welshman hadn't been thinking about _him_ when Tosh was eavesdropping, and somewhat sorry. He desperately wanted to know what was going on in the young man's mind, but not at the expense of those thoughts being revealed to someone else, not even Tosh, who of everyone he knew would probably handle the information most sensitively. _Thank god it had been her and not Gwen Mary had targeted_. He wasn't completely sure how vulnerable Gwen would have been to her approach, but based on her affair with Owen, her flirting with him and what had happened with Carys in the cells, all in the face of a supposedly good relationship with—what was his name?--oh, yeah, Rhys… Better not to have found out.

Tosh _had _passed on the little bit she'd heard of Ianto's thoughts, though, and the supportive comments he'd made during her debriefing after Mary's death, and Jack desperately had wanted to talk to him. When he returned to the Hub, though, there had been no sign of the Welshman, and Jack had assumed he'd gone home, like the rest of the team. Now, with Ianto held closely in his arms, he felt the younger man relaxing against him as they swayed to Miller's trademark combo of clarinet and tenor sax.

"Rough day, eh, Yan?"

Ianto answered with a desperate laugh that he struggled to cut off.

"Yeah. Well, Tosh said you were really kind, helpful. She appreciated it. On top of you saving her life last week—" he shushed the young man's protest at his characterization—"well, I wouldn't be surprised if she gets you kind of a nice Christmas present this year." Jack continued, then fell silent, dancing smoothly as the music transitioned to _April in Paris_. "Yan?"

"Hmm?"

"You know you can talk to me about anything, don't you? No matter what?"

"I-- I do know, Jack. And when I'm ready, well, there isn't anyone else I would go to. I just—there are some things I need to sort out for myself before I talk to you about them." He paused. "It's been a long time since anyone _wanted _to know what I was thinking, feeling… It's—nice."

Jack laid a gentle kiss on the younger man's forehead. "I wish I could help you be less unhappy, but until you're ready to say more, I guess I'll have to be satisfied with that."

"I do have one question. Not about me, but…"

"What is it, Yan?"

What Ianto asked was hardly what Jack had been expecting.

"Torchwood, it's the whole secret organization, hunting aliens from a hidden base thing, 'way beyond' classified… yet everywhere we go, we tell everyone 'We're Torchwood' and they back off. Or usually, anyhow. Everyone knows us, the cops, the pizza delivery guys…"

"I think Owen stopped doing that."

"None the less, hard to unring the bell. And when someone _doesn't_ know us, _we_ make a big deal about it, like with the Newport constables the other day. We have groupies, like Eugene Jones. It's no wonder Mary didn't have any trouble tracking us down. I even run coffee over to the Senedd, in our name…"

"Those guys are responsible for a chunk of our funding, Yan."

"I'm aware of that, Jack. I keep the books. But my point is—"

"Ianto, what you say is true, but Torchwood is like Area 51, or Hanger 18. People may have heard of it, know that it exists, maybe even think they know who we are, but no one really knows what it is we do."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

3 December 2006

"Jack?"

Ianto strode into the hub, moving smoothly, sheer willpower eliminating any external evidence of his residual pain and stiffness.

"Hmm?"

"I just got an interesting phone call from a Dectective Swanson, Cardiff PD. She's requesting Torchwood's presence at a crime scene."

Jack looked at him sharply.

"They're _requesting_ Torchwood?"

Ianto pursed his lips.

"First time for everything, Sir."

"Did they say why?"

"No, Sir. Just gave me the address."

"Well, then, I think we'd better go take a look."

Ianto monitored the team's communications from the Hub. Even via Jack's video hookup seeing the word "Torchwood" scrawled across the wall in blood was chilling. He knew that being at the scene, smelling the metallic tang of fresh blood, mingled with the stench of loosened bowels and bladders emptied at the moment of death would have made it that much worse. So he was ready for the subdued team that convened in the conference room.

"But we've not given Retcon to anyone since—" Tosh looked across the table apologetically at her newest colleague. "Since Gwen. How could anyone still have Retcon in his blood?"

"Well," Owen looked a bit abashed. "I misspoke a little. The tests were done on hair, not on blood. And while Retcon only stays in the system for a few hours, hair provides a nice historical record of exposures, a month for every half-inch of hair."

Tosh glanced at her notes. "The hair was two and a half inches long. So, this guy had Retcon sometime in the last five months."

"Well, that narrows it down a _BIT_ more. Ianto, how many people would that make?"

The Welshman shook his head. "Jack, that time frame includes the battle of Canary Wharf, 'a cyberman in every home,' invasion of the daleks. Torchwood gave _a lot_ of people Retcon , and this test doesn't distinguish between _your_ special mixture and the version used by Torchwood London and Glascow. I'm sorry, but the last five months just doesn't narrow it down that much."

* * *

Ianto caught up with Jack as he was in his office pulling up the access codes to the Torchwood bulk storage facility. The investigation had finally turned up a lead, and it was taking the team to about the last place Ianto had ANY desire to be.

"If it's all the same to you, Sir, I think I'll pass on digging through Suzie's storage compartment. After all, someone should be here to watch the rift monitors."

"You know, Ianto, we can set the monitors to signal us remotely."

"Yes, Sir, but then I wouldn't have a reason to pass up this kind of opportunity."

"You don't need an excuse, Ianto. We've got more than enough hands for this job."

"I'm sorry, Sir. It's just—"

"I know you and Suzie weren't the best of friends."

Ianto snorted.

"She didn't even know I was alive. Unless she wanted a cup of coffee or was complaining about whatever pizza boxes Owen had left lying around."

"She objected to me hiring you, thought she should have been consulted. And she wasn't happy about Myfanwy. Never really got over being afraid of her. So I don't think she was predisposed to be welcoming. In any case, as it turns out, the rest of us didn't know her any better. Maybe not as well, even. You at least realized that you weren't close. I knew her for years, recruited her into Torchwood. I thought she was one of us, our friend. I thought she was dedicated to our mission, to protecting people. To protecting this planet."

"We all have our own agendas, Sir," Ianto reminded him reluctantly.

"What happened with Suzie was—different."

"How?"

"You may have deceived us, but when push came to shove, you weren't going to let your teammates get hurt. You may have been misguided, but you didn't intentionally put anyone at risk. You just tried to save your girlfriend. Suzie killed three people. She shot me. She would have shot Gwen."

"I slugged you. I wanted to kill you."

"You wanted to hurt me. There's a big difference."

Ianto considered his captain's words, and nodded slowly. "But that isn't it. It's just—the last few months. So much death. Canary Wharf, Suzie, Ed Morgan, Lisa, Estelle, Jas, Mary, all those people at Brynblaidd … I just—"

Jack met his gaze, his eyes full of understanding and compassion.

"Like I said, Yan. No worries, we have plenty of hands for this job. And we need you to monitor the Rift while we're out."

* * *

It neither escaped Ianto's notice nor surprised him that when the revived Suzie did her role call in the Hub, she'd left him out. In her world, "the gang" hadn't included him. He watched the video of the power transfer between Gwen and Suzie. Unlike the prior video of Mark Briscoe, the power between Gwen and Suzie didn't run through the glove. No wonder the connection wasn't broken when the glove was no longer in contact with Suzie's head.

And not for the first time did Jack curse himself for ever hiring Gwen when he realized that she's smuggled Suzie out of the building.

"_What's she doing?"_

"_Getting herself fired."_

"_How stupid is that? Thinking she can just drive off." _

"_Come on, let's go get them."_

Jack, Owen and Tosh had just turned to head for the SUV when the lights went out and the hub doors all closed and locked.

"_What the hell? Ianto! Ianto!"_

"_Captain."_

"_What happened?"_

"_But—I thought you must have done it. We've gone into lock down."_

"_Then, reverse it!"_

"_I can't. It's hundred percent. The doors are sealed. We're locked in."_

"_Everything's gone: computers, mobile coverage, lifts, everything. We're sealed in."_

It shouldn't have surprised Jack that it was Ianto who figured out a way to communicate with the outside world, yet somehow he assumed that Tosh would be the one to come up with the answer. But while Toshiko was overtly a genius, Ianto's fund of knowledge was seemingly endless, and attached to a solid, practical, constructive talent. Tosh might worry over the details of Suzie's betrayal, and figure out how to undo the lock down, but it was Ianto who used the tower as an antenna and got them phone service.

"Nice work, Ianto."

Ianto couldn't blame Cathy Swanson for her amusement over their predicament. He had to admit, had the situations been reversed, he probably would have put the call on speaker and gather the troops too. But she'd not delayed in helping them. Despite it requiring several cups of coffee. And she hadn't hesitated to clear the roads ahead of the SUV, didn't require a long explanation, just took Jack at his word that it was important. Ianto made a mental note to take her a cup of his own brew sometime soon.

Unaware that her actions that day were going to earn her the best cup of coffee she'd ever had, Cathy Swanson arrived on the ferry pier with the first of her units. It was a bloody scene that awaited her. Owen Harper sat on the ground, clutching Gwen Cooper to him. Both were covered in blood, and there was something about his protective posture that left Swanson wondering if there were more to their relationship than just being colleagues. Funny, based on his reputation, she would have assumed that if anyone were bedding the female employees, it would be Harkness. But maybe he did his prowling further from home… In all honesty, she herself couldn't honestly claim to be immune to his charm.

The Captain _himself_ was further out the pier, standing over the bullet-ridden body of a woman Swanson didn't recognize.

"She looks dead," Swanson commented as she approached the scene.

"God, Cathy, I certainly hope so."

"Who is she?"

"She is, was-- she was Torchwood."

She eyed him, evaluating, waiting for further explanation.

"We take care of our own. Clean up after our own."

"Anything else I need to know about this?"

"You can close the files on Sarah Pallister, Rani Ghosh and John Tucker. They all died about six weeks ago. And on Badi Costello. I believe he was murdered last night. Plus your three."

"Close them why?" Knowing the answer, even as she asked.

"You aren't ever going to get any more leads on the killer. And there won't be any more victims."

She eyed the corpse warily.

"And what should my report read about this?"

"Classified, authority Torchwood."


	8. Epilogue

A/N--As a general rule, the thing which inspires me to write more (for here, at least) are the reviews on my previous stories, so if you've liked this... Thanks. Button's at the bottom.

Epilogue

7 December 2006

Ianto Jones stood on the roof of the Millennium Center, wrapped in Jack Harkness' arms, in Jack Harkness' coat, feeling warm and relaxed in a post-coital haze, despite the surrounding freezing mist. Having finally taken the big step and made that first move—_thank god for his grandfather's stopwatch!--_ he was surprised to find himself, at least for the moment, completely unconflicted. Sex with Jack had been everything he'd imagined and more. He was in the only place he wanted to be, and for the first time in months, since Canary Wharf really, he was truly happy.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jack whispered into his ear. "All the little twinkly lights…"

"I see why you spend so much time up here. From this vantage you'd never guess that there were Weevils in the sewer, daleks in the sky, and cannibals on the loose. It looks like a safe and happy city."

"No more cannibals on the loose, Yan, thanks to us. And hopefully no daleks for quite awhile. And no more Suzie Costello. A lot of why they," Jack indicated the pedestrians below, "can go on about their normal, contented lives is because of us." He paused, still looking out over the Plass. "Just a couple of days until 'Christmas in Cardiff Bay'. What do you say we go, listen to some music, drink some wassail or Gwîn Dail Derw--"

"Or hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps?"

"And you call yourself a Welshman! Okay, or hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, if we can find it, and walk through the crowds, just be ordinary for one night? Let someone else watch over Cardiff for a change?"

"We already missed the Bay Light Up." He felt Jack shrug behind him.

"We were busy saving the world. Couldn't be helped. But that doesn't mean we have to give a pass to everything. We could go to the Carol Concert at St. Mary's, or to one at St. David's Hall—there are a bunch of different concerts coming up at St. David's, including one with the Welsh Guard Brass Ensemble, and I know you like the trumpets--plus there's always the Christmas tour at Cardiff Castle."

"Oh, I love the Castle at Christmas—carols, mulled wine, minced pies, and all the little kids so excited to see Santa!"

"Then let's plan on that. And 'Christmas in the Bay'? After all, it's right out our front door…"

Ianto looked up at the sky.

"Do you think it'll be fine? Surely after six weeks of nearly constant rain this has to be the end of it, doesn't it, Jack? If the Taff gets any fuller, it's going to wash us away."

"Well, if we get wet and chilled, I know where we can find amazing coffee, and a warm bed nearby. I'll be sure we have the hub to ourselves."

"Sounds nice." He snuggled back further in his new lover's arms, and continued lazily, "Jack, what are we going to get Myfanwy for Christmas?"

"I don't know. What _does_ one get the pterodactyl who has everything?"

"Maybe—Belgian chocolate?"

"I think we could manage that. Maybe even take a couple of days and go get them ourselves. I've been meaning to go ever since Air Wales restarted direct service to Brussels a couple of years ago. We could take the train to Bruges. There's a castle just outside of town that has rooms available. It's spectacular. You'd love it. Wouldn't you think the world could take care of itself just long enough for us to do that?" He stood quietly for a moment, enjoying the fantasy of going away for a long weekend, relishing the feel of the young man in his arms, the sense of contentment that flowed through him, something he'd not felt in a very long time.

"Yan?"

"Yes, Sir?" Jack heard the smile and intimacy in the formality and realized that he'd be listening for that word even more in the future.

"I'm really glad you have that stop watch."

fin


End file.
